Fallen Stars

December 2, 2011
Not across the river,
But down the stream,
Ever so easy it just may seam.
So pull a star from the sky hot as ever,
Use the edge for your pain may you never?
But how many stars may you hold,
Before the story of your deathly end is told,
Before to heaven your soul is sold,
And before your grave is lined with gold.
So your hands in flames they go to work,
For now the last star has fallen,
Ghost will lurk.

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